


I'm In Love With More Than Just My Car

by Nightie0914



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Bohemian Rhapsody cast imagines, Bohemian Rhapsody cast x reader, Brian May owns my heart, I love Queen, Other, Queen imagines, Queen x reader, Queen x reader oneshots, and the bo rhap cast, x reader oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 09:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17978333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightie0914/pseuds/Nightie0914
Summary: A collection of various 'x reader' oneshots for the members of Queen as well as the Bohemian Rhapsody cast





	1. Whole Band

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt;
> 
> "I lost my little sibling in IKEA, and I need your help finding them."

Moving out was one of the most liberating and nerve-wracking things you had ever done. Sure, it was terrifying to be on your own with adult responsibilities to handle, but dear God, it saved your sanity. There was no doubt that you loved your family. You really and truly did, but... they could be quite chaotic from time to time. You snatched up the first opportunity to move out. The only problem was that you needed to buy some furniture for your little apartment. You decided that, after having lived in your flat for about two weeks already, it was probably time to take a trip to IKEA. However, the day did not go as planned. 

Your mother called, telling you that she had an important appointment but the babysitter had canceled last minute. She was in desperate need of someone to watch your little brothers. Being the good older sibling that you are, you told her that you could watch them. You thought it would be fun to take the boys with you while you ran a few errands. Maybe the three of you could stop for some sort of treat while out and about. Your mother sounded relieved, thanking you over and over again. 

Instead of dropping them off at your flat, she met you at IKEA, saying that it would be easier for both of you. Your mother planted a kiss on your cheek and thanked you once more for babysitting. You waved her off. No big deal, right? _Wrong_. 

John's wife was pregnant, and they needed to get a crib before the baby arrived. When the rest of the band heard this, they all chimed in suggestions. Roger was the one who suggested they all go to IKEA, like a field trip. As Brian and Freddie voiced their agreements, John pinched the bridge of his nose. He could already tell that this was going to be a _long_ day.

The four of them arrived, goofing off as usual. They weren't in the store for two minutes before an employee was reprimanding them. Freddie was sitting in a shopping cart, and Roger was trying to see how fast he could push him. John and Brian had smug smiles as Roger returned to them, leaving Freddie to climb out of the cart on his own-- only for it to dump over with a loud crash. "Quick, run before they kick us out!" Roger hissed. He dashed down an aisle with John and Brian hot on his heels. Freddie scrambled to his feet and followed suit. Their laughter filled the air. It would have been easy to find them if someone were to just follow the sounds of their giggles.

Perhaps you had overestimated your ability to watch not one, but _two_ wild children in one of the most confusing stores to navigate in the history of confusing stores. You were constantly getting on to them for knocking stuff over or trying to climb on top of one of the displays. You were about ready to rip your hair out. "Look, I'll make a deal with you guys. If you can be quiet, not knock anything else over, and not climb on anything else, then I'll take you guys to get ice cream, or candy, or I'll even consider buying you a new toy. How's that sound?" They were bouncing up and down, nodding their heads vigorously. You held your hand out. "It's a deal!" They shook your hand with wide smiles. 

You sighed in relief, thinking they were contained for the time being. You could hear them whispering, but you didn't pay it much attention. At least they weren't shrieking at the top of their lungs. Your head snapped in the opposite direction when a large crash echoed through the store. You hummed, wondering what on earth had caused the ruckus. Little did you know that things were about to dramatically go downhill. You turned around to say something to your brothers, only to find that you were alone in the aisle. 

You swore and checked around the other aisles nearby. The couldn't have gone that far-- you only had your back turned for like, two seconds! You whisper-shouted their names but received no response. Your heart started to beat faster with each minute that passed. Your mother would murder you on the spot if she found out you had lost the boys. Soon, you were running around the store like a headless chicken. Tears threatened to form as your mind thought of the worst possible scenarios. What if they had broken something and an employee took them somewhere? What if they tried to leave the store without you?  _What if they were kidnapped?_

You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. You told yourself that it was okay. They were just around this corner. As you rounded the corner, you ran into someone and nearly made the two of you stumble to the ground. You gasped and stuttered through multiple apologies. The man laughed, patting your shoulders. "It's quite alright, darling. I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going." It was in that moment you realized who exactly you had ran into. Your head was swimming, not the best moment to literally stumble into one of your favorite celebrities. 

"Are you alright? You look a bit shook up." John eyed you carefully. Roger smirked, crossing his arms.

"Probably from meeting rockstars such as ourselves." Brian rolled his eyes. 

"Actually, I came here with my little brothers, and now I can't find them," you blurted out. "Do you think you could.. uh-" Before you could even finish your sentence, all four of them were bombarding you with questions. They were asking you their names, what they looked like, and so on. They were going to make damned sure that you found them. They might have been rockstars, but they were still human. They would want someone to help them if they were in your shoes-- especially Freddie, he would absolutely die if one of his cats turned up missing. 

Soon the five of you were marching through the store, hunting down the two troublemakers. "Has anyone found them yet?" John called out. He was answered with a chorus of 'no's. 

"Where the fuck could they have possibly gone to?" Roger groaned. Suddenly, an idea popped into Freddie's mind. Maybe they hadn't found them et because they weren't thinking as a child would. 

"Marco!" Everyone froze, catching on with his brilliant plan. Two small voices answered from seemingly opposite directions The five of you scrambled about. You each took turns shouting, "Marco!" Meanwhile, the others would try to find their hiding spot. Brian crept down an aisle, eyeing an inconspicuous basket nearby. As he moved closer, he could hear muffled giggling. Brian dramatically removed the lid as the child inside gasped. Brian glanced over his shoulder.

"Found one!" He grinned and returned his gaze to the basket only to see the child clamoring out of it. "Oh, no, you're not escaping this time." He picked up your little brother and tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You sighed in relief when you saw the two. A large grin crossed your face as your brother squealed with laughter. Brian set the tike down and knelt to his level. "Can you show us where your brother is?" He shook his head and crossed his arms. "And why not?"

"He told me that snitches get stitches." You rolled your eyes with a groan.

"Of course he did."

John heard someone's shoe squeak on the tile floor. Of course, it could've been one of the others, but he decided to check it out anyways. Better safe than sorry. When he poked his head into the next aisle, he saw a young boy staring at him with wide eyes before taking off. "He's heading towards the bedroom furniture!" 

Roger heard John shout and whirled around, looking for your brother. That's when he saw Freddie in the middle of an epic battle with your brother. The two were hurling pillows at each other. "Need some backup, Fred?" Roger picked up a nearby pillow and whacked your brother with it, who in turn let loose a battle cry before hitting Roger with another pillow. Soon enough, the rest of you stumbled upon the scene. Your other brother grabbed a pillow off the shelf and hit your leg with it. You snatched the pillow away from him. 

"It's not polite to hit ladies," you reprimanded with a stern look on your face. He sheepishly looked away, which left you with the perfect moment to strike. Brian watched the five of you participate in the childish pillow fight with an amused smile on his face. Someone, though you're not sure who as no one would claim it, threw a pillow square in his face. It was in that moment that it changed from a pillow fight to a pillow war. IT was brother against brother against sister, guitarist against singer against drummer. It was hysteria. John had a slight grimace at the scene.

"Now, let's not cause a bigger scene than we already-" John was cut off by everyone throwing a pillow at him.

"Oh, come on, Deacy!" Freddie sassed. "Don't be so boring."

"I'll show you what's boring." Just as he went to pick up a nearby pillow, everyone froze. John furrowed his brows and turned around to see a group of employees and security guards-- all looking unamused. 

"We're going to have to ask you all to leave, immediately." The six of you muttered apologies as you stepped over the mess of pillows littering the floor. The security guards escorted you all out, and your face was as red as a tomato. You started to apologize to everyone but they just laughed and shook their heads. 

"Don't be sorry. That was a thousand times more fun than we would've had on a normal shopping trip," Roger said with a wink. 

"Although," Freddie interjected. "I do believe that you owe us a drink. You know, for getting us kicked out and probably banned from shopping at IKEA until the end of time." 

"And I do believe that you're correct," you laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof I know this isn't the best but hey I tried :P
> 
> also confession time: I've never actually been to IKEA so this is probably not all that accurate
> 
> I am also painfully American and writing with the main characters in England is probably going to be inaccurate as well lol


	2. Brian May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt:
> 
> "we've been in the library sitting across from each other without acknowledging each other for a couple of hours but you fell asleep and are currently using my book as a pillow what do i do"

Thunder rumbled above your head as you ran down the sidewalk, feet splashing in the giant puddles that were everywhere on campus. You narrowed your eyes as the wind blew the rain droplets into your face with a ferocity that made you wonder what you did to tick of Mother Nature. You let out a sigh of relief as you fought the wind to pull open the library's glass door. It was the closest building to you when the bottom of the sky fell. You needed to be there anyway. Finals were next week, and you had yet to crack open a book to study. Procrastination always seemed to get the best of you. Peeling off the wet jacket, you shuffled through the quiet library to find an empty seat. It wasn't too hard, most people were smart enough to pay attention to weather reports and not be out when it was supposed to storm. You, unfortunately, were not one of those people. 

After pulling out your personal stack of textbooks from your backpack, you began to hunt through the shelves for books that you heard your professors mention in class. You were really just searching for anything that could help. You returned to your spot to find someone in the spot directly across from yours. The man had long hair with curls that clung to his head from being drenched. Guess you weren't the only one to not pay attention to weather reports. You made a quick scan of the surrounding areas and found it quite sparse. It was odd that he had chosen to sit right across from you when there was barely anyone else in the library, but you shrugged it off. Some people just liked to be around others instead of being alone.

You plopped your new stack of books near your other pile. As you started to sit down, you made eye contact with the man across the table. You gave him a slight nod as a greeting, and he returned the gesture. You returned your gaze to the massive amount of books before yourself. You didn't want to stare at him, but he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks-- not to mention that he was  _hot_ with his hazel eyes and outstanding jawline. God, you came here to study and get away from distractions only to find a new one. Maybe you could get at least  _something_ done, but your odds weren't looking so great. 

It had only been two or three hours at most, but it felt like an eternity. The rain outside was just beginning to slow down. You rubbed your eyes, considering making a run for it back to your dorm. Your brain felt like it had been deep fried with all the information you had been shoving inside of it for the past couple of hours. You needed to recalibrate by taking a nap and maybe eating some chocolate. Okay, make that definitely eating some chocolate. Hey, you deserved it! You pushed yourself away from the table, finally noticing that your neighbor was passed out. A small grin twitched at the corners of your lips as you gathered the library's books into your arms. You placed each one back in their proper place before returning to pack up your personal belongings. 

Your brows furrowed. One of your textbooks was missing. You were sure that you had it earlier. You couldn't have lost your mind this fast... right? You glanced under the table and all around your chair, but there was still no book. You hummed, trying to think of where it could be. Your eyes wandered across the table to where your neighbor was snoozing. Lo and behold, the book you had been searching for was underneath his head. He must've thought it was his and decided to use it as a pillow... or something. You didn't really give much thought as to  _why_ it was under his head. You were just trying to figure out how to get it back.

There was no way you were going to wake him up. He looked exhausted, and waking him up would just be cruel. You grabbed one of his textbooks. Maybe you could pull your book out and slide this one under his head. You scrunched your nose at the idea, putting the book back in its place. Nah, that's stupid. It wouldn't work. No matter what idea you came up with, they all ended with the probability of him waking up. You sighed, finally settling on a plan. Reaching into your backpack, you ripped out a piece of paper from your notebook. You scribbled down your name and contact information then folded the note and carefully stuck it under one of his hands. He started to move, and you froze with wide eyes. You stared at him, hoping you didn't just ruin his nap. Thankfully, the man didn't wake. With a sigh of relief, you pulled your jacket back on, ready to trudge back to your dorm. 

It was getting late. You were sitting on your bed, chatting with your roommate about how neither one of you were ready for finals to start. A sharp knock sounded against the door. You glanced at each other, and you hopped off the bed. "Is it another one of your lovers?" you teased. Your roommate scoffed, stating that they weren't expecting anybody. You opened the door and, to your surprise, saw the man from the library. He sheepishly held out your textbook, which you gratefully accepted.

"I-- uh-- sorry for falling asleep on top of your book." You let out a soft laugh, leaning against the doorframe.

"No worries. I understand. Finals are getting to everyone, yeah?" He smiled at you.

"I'm Brian, by the way. Brian May. I... I'm going to be in the library tomorrow afternoon if you would like to study together." It was your turn to smile.

"I would love to, Brian."

He said his farewells before walking away. You watched his curly-headed self bounce down the hall until he disappeared from your view. As you closed the door, your roommate leaned forward. Their face was filled with curiosity. "So, tell me about your new lover." You rolled your eyes and scoffed, a faint blush spreading across your cheeks.


	3. Soulmate! Roger Taylor (pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt;
> 
> soulmate AU where your heart glows when near your soulmate

Everyone knows about the whole 'soulmate' shtick at this point.  _Everyone has someone special out there, just waiting for them! You'll find yours, you just have to be patient!_ Yadda, yadda, and so forth. It was kind of annoying at this point. At every. single. family gathering, your family would bombard you with questions about your relationship status.

 _"Have you met your soulmate yet?"_  "No."

 _"Do you think you'll meet them soon?"_ "Probably won't."

 _"Are you sure you didn't accidentally overlook and miss it?"_ "I'm sure."

Their disappointed or pitying gaze never failed to escape you. When you were growing up, you would always dream about your soulmate being absolutely perfect. You would imagine how cool it would be to be paired with someone famous. You always looked back and scoffed. Hate to break it to ya kid, but real life isn't a Disney fairy tale. Things didn't always work out that way. You were beginning to wonder if you even had a soulmate. All of your friends were starting to discover theirs, and you had yet to find your own.

It was getting close to your birthday, and you weren't planning to do much. You considered going out for a few drinks with your friends, but no official plans had been made. The telephone attached to the wall in your kitchen started ringing, breaking you out of your trance. Hauling yourself off of the couch, you took a sip of your coffee before going to answer it. "Hello?" You pulled the phone away from your ear and grimaced as your friend screeched your name. "Do you realize how loud you are? It's way too early for you to be this loud."

**_"But it's almost noon."_ **

"Exactly. Any time of the day is too early for you to be that loud. Did you have a reason for calling, you know, besides to bust my eardrums?" Your friend laughed.

**_"Of course I have a reason. So you know how Queen is touring the U.S. and is gonna be in town tonight?"_ **

"Yeah, it's all anyone's been talking about lately."

 ** _"And you know how your birthday is coming up?"_**   You hummed, wondering where this was going. _ **"Well, get your best concert clothes on. We're going to see Queen!"**_

You just stood there in shock. You didn't know what to say except 'no way,' and 'thank you,' both of which you said about a million times. After you hung up, you bounced around your small apartment, squealing like a teenage girl. That's when it hit you. What the hell were you gonna wear? You pulled apart your entire wardrobe. You didn't want to wear anything too scandalous but also not too modest. You wanted to wear something that looked nice  _just in case_ you ran into someone. After all, it was supposed to be a rock and roll concert-- anything could happen.

That evening, your friend picked you up, and the two of you set off for the evening's adventure. You fussed over how close the two of you were to the stage and how your friend must've spent a small fortune to get those seats. They just rolled their eyes and made a comment about how you two were a couple of sections away from the stage therefore not that close. You just stared at them and wanted to smack them for making such a comment. You could only have dreamed of sitting in the nosebleed seats, much less a couple of sections away from the stage. As the concert began, you and your friend screamed along with the rest of the crowd. You both sang your hearts out to every song. It wasn't until a couple of songs in that your friend took you by the shoulders. You furrowed your brows at their expression, which you were having trouble deciphering. When you asked what was wrong, they just jabbed their finger at your chest. Your breath got caught in your throat at the sight of the soft light being emitted through your chest and along your veins. "Holy shit..." The two of you glanced around for anyone else nearby that might be experiencing the same moment you were. At one point, your friend even stood on top of their chair to get a better view. You pulled them down and shrugged. "We'll search for them later, okay? We're at a fucking Queen concert! Let's just enjoy the moment and worry about that later."

Roger didn't notice the faint light surrounding his heart and veins. He was focused on the performance. It wasn't until the intermission when the band was heading backstage when someone-- Freddie--pointed it out. "Roger, darling, it looks like someone special must be attending the concert tonight."

"What're you talkin' 'bout, Fred? I would've noticed if-" Roger stopped dead in his tracks. The other three clapped his shoulders and offered congratulations. He should be excited, so why wasn't he? In fact, he almost looked... worried. 

"What's wrong, Rog?" Brian crossed his arms, eyeing his friend carefully.

"Did you see how many people are out there tonight? How the hell am I supposed to find 'em?" Roger huffed as he ran a hand through his hair. 

"We'll figure something out," John assured. Brian nodded.

"Yeah, maybe after the show we could-" 

"No." Everyone turned to face Freddie, who was deep in thought.

"I'm sorry?"

"No, we'll cut the show short and have people stationed about to look for Roger's soulmate." Everyone gaped at him. "This is a matter of great importance! We're looking for his _soulmate_." He clapped. "Come along, now! We've got some searching to do."

A majority of the crowd booed when someone came out on stage to announce that the concert had been cut short due to a band member's 'personal emergency.' Everyone was instructed to leave through specific exits to ensure the safety of the crowd as well as the band. Your friend grabbed your wrist and started tugging you along. "Wait, where are you going? This is the exact opposite direction they told everyone to go."

"You think I'm gonna let you leave without finding your soulmate?" your friend scoffed with a grin spreading across their face. It didn't take a genius to see that they had already formed a plan that would most likely end in the two of you getting in big trouble. No matter how many times you asked, your friend refused to tell you what they were doing or where you two were going because 'telling you the plan makes you an accomplice but just taking you makes you a hostage, which means less trouble for you.' 

Your friend paused in front of a door and tried to open it. Luckily, it was locked. "Oh no, the plan has been foiled. I think that means its time to go home." Your friend rolled their eyes and pulled a bobby pin out of their pocket. They jiggled it into the lock, trying to pick it open. You rubbed your face with your hands. This would not end well. 

"Hey!" The two of you whirled around to see a security guard marching over. Your friend muttered something about acting natural. The guard narrowed his eyes at the two of you. He stared at you for a moment. "You need to follow me."

"Wait, no, this was all my idea! They were my hostage!" your friend blurted out. The guard looked at them with an exasperated expression.

"Fine, you can come along too." 

Your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. You knew this would happen. You were both going to get arrested. You just so happened to glance down and notice that the light in your chest was glowing even brighter. You elbowed your friend, whose smile widened. The security guard led the two of you outside, and your eyes widened when you saw the large tour bus parked nearby. None other than Freddie Mercury dramatically waltzed out of the bus with open arms. "Hello, darlings! So glad we were able to find you." Seconds later, John and Brain made their way out of the bus. You were internally freaking out. What the hell was going on? The three men, albeit you knew their names already, introduced themselves. You and your friend returned the gesture, telling them your names. "Oh, Rog, would you get out here already? Your hair looks fine!" You heard Roger make some smartass remark back to Freddie before emerging from the bus. 

It felt like time stopped. You couldn't believe the sight before your eyes. Heart, arteries, veins, his whole lifeline was emitting the same light as yours. You had found your soulmate, and it wasn't just anybody. It was  _the_ Roger Taylor. You felt drawn to him, and before you knew it, the two of you were standing toe to toe. "Hello, love. It's about time we've met, don't you think?" You smiled up at him. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the sight of his mesmerizing blue eyes.

"And you thought I was gonna get us arrested," your friend muttered.


	4. Soulmate! Roger Taylor (pt. 2)

You still couldn't believe everything that had happened. It all went by so fast. Even weeks later, you were still in shock as to who your soulmate was. Guess life could be like a fairy tale, huh? Roger wanted you to travel with them for the rest of the tour. The rest of the band was fine with it, but you weren't sure, still trying to wrap your mind around the whole situation. Of course, he understood. It was a strange set of circumstances, and he wanted you to be comfortable. The two of you agreed to maintain contact while they were touring, then when the tour was over, Roger said he would stay in the states to spend time with you before returning to England. 

You grinned at the memory. It was nice to have something... no, _someone_... to look forward to. You were pulled out of your trance by your manager snapping his fingers in front of your face. "Hello? Anybody home?" You cleared your throat before apologizing. He rolled his eyes and pointed to the sea of customers being seated. "It's rush hour, and I don't need you just standing around. Get back to work." The manager disappeared, and you huffed, pulling the pen out from behind your ear. Being a waiter wasn't your ideal job, but it paid the bills. Take orders. Give said orders to the kitchen staff. Deliver the food to the appropriate tables. Smile and feign hospitality to rude guests. It was the same thing, day in and day out.

Your head snapped up when someone shouted your name. Another waitress held up the restaurant's main telephone. "Phone call!" You furrowed your brows, wondering who the hell would be calling you in the middle of your shift. 

"Hello?"

 **"Hello, love!"** You scanned your surroundings, hoping that your manager wouldn't turn up.

"Hey, Rog. Listen, I'm working right now, and I don't really have time to talk."

 **"I know, I know. I just wanted to ask if-"** Roger's words were lost in the midst of your manager's yelling.

"(Y/N)! This isn't a time for personal calls. Who the hell are you talking to, your imaginary rockstar soulmate?" You sighed, trying to cover the bottom half of the telephone so, hopefully, Roger wouldn't be able to hear him. "Get out there and do your job before I take this out of your paycheck," the manager snarled. You nodded, face reddening. People were beginning to stare. The last thing you wanted was to cause an even bigger scene.

"I'll call you when I get home." You hung the telephone back on its receiver and scurried out into the dining area to complete your daily duties. 

At first, Roger looked mortified, then his expression quickly turned angry. "What a fucking shitstain!" The rest of the band looked up at his sudden outburst. They had stopped at a rest area when Roger gave you a call with a nearby payphone. He slammed the phone down, turning to face the others. He threw his hands up. "Her boss is a twat, and I think we should stop by the restaurant for a little visit." 

"I don't think starting a fight with (Y/N)'s boss is a good idea, Rog." Freddie and Brian nodded, agreeing with John. 

"Who said anything about fighting? We were planning on stopping by her place to surprise her anyway. Why not bring the surprise a little earlier?" A devilish smirk crossed his lips as he bounded into the bus. The other three shared a wary look before following him.

Luckily, things were beginning to slow down, which allowed you to actually catch your breath. You felt bad for having to hang up on Roger, but your manager could be a prick and the last thing you needed was to get on his bad side. You were trudging into the kitchen to collect a couple of dishes when you heard an unholy screech. It startled you, and you almost dropped the plates in your hands. The kitchen staff laughed at your reaction before speculating what on earth had possibly created that noise. They cracked a few jokes about how maybe it was your soulmate stopping by for a visit. You just rolled your eyes and ignored their comments. You delivered the food to the assigned tables and felt someone tap your shoulder. "I'm sorry, but if you wish to be seated, please wait in line near the hostess podium. She should have you seated momentarily," you stated as if it was a line you had rehearsed for a play. 

"Shame, I was hoping you could show us around." You froze, noticing the glow in your chest that was dimmed by your uniform. You laughed and turned on your heel so you could properly greet him with a hug.

"Rog! What're you doing here?" 

"Am I not allowed to visit my soulmate?" Roger quipped. He cupped your cheeks and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. The whole establishment erupted into whispers at the sight. When he pulled away, you peeked around his shoulder and waved at the rest of the band, who were being approached by fans. They all grinned and waved back. 

You stood there and talked to the boys for a couple of minutes. You were asking all the usual questions about their wellbeing and how the tour went when your manager decided to make an appearance. He slinked over to the group and stood by your side. "Good afternoon, gentlemen! It's an honor to have you at our restaurant. I only hope that this waiter wasn't bothering you too much when they should be doing their job instead of fawning over you four." He cast an icy glare in your direction. Everyone shifted uncomfortably and cast wary glances at Roger, who practically had steam coming out of his ears. The manager barked out a laugh, "If you only knew the lies and rumors they've spread recently, especially the ones concerning you, Mr. Taylor." At that moment, Roger saw nothing but red. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at the manager.

"What have they been saying then?"

"They claimed to be your _soulmate!"_ He howled with laughter. Roger wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to himself and away from the sleazy manager. The man's eyes practically bludged out of his head.

"You know, I don't appreciate the way you've treated _my soulmate_ , so why don't you piss off? They deserve better than working at a sorry excuse for a restaurant like this." Roger stepped forward and jabbed a finger at the man's chest. "And if I hear you say one more degrading comment about them, I'll-" You tugged on Roger's arm, shaking your head.

"Come on, Rog. Let's just go. He's not worth it." Roger shot the manager one last glare before storming out, slamming the door behind himself. Freddie looked slightly disappointed that Roger didn't beat the living shit out of the manager, while Brian and John looked relieved. You hurried after Roger. Brian and John gave the customers grins and apologized for the disturbance before walking out. Freddie, being ever so dramatic, raised both of his arms as well as his middle fingers while waltzing out. 

A cigarette dangled between Roger's lips. He ran a hand through his hair and muttered an apology when you came to stand beside him. You waved him off, stating that you had been wanting to quit for some time now. "I know you're not to keen on being in the spotlight, but I wish you would come back to London with us." You glanced over your shoulder and saw the other three walking out of the restaurant and bit back a laugh at Freddie's over-the-top exit. You reached up and plucked the cigarette from Roger's mouth, pressing it to your own lips. You sucked in a breath then exhaled, watching the smoke lift up into the air before disappearing. Roger watched you with amusement dancing in his large, doe eyes. 

"Maybe it's time for a change." You looked up at him, biting your bottom lip. He smirked intertwining his hand with yours.

"Is that a yes?"


	5. Joe Mazzello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt;
> 
> "Take me laser tagging then push me into a corner and kiss me. Then shoot me and walk away."

At some point or another, most children dream about being a famous actor. You were one of those kids. You stuck to those dreams until you hit middle school and was given an opportunity to participate in a play. During rehearsals, you were completely fine. You performed your little heart out. It wasn't until opening night that things started to go downhill. You were a bundle of nerves. Everyone assured you that you would be alright. They said you did great in rehearsals, so you would be okay during the actual performance. You took a deep breath and marched on stage when you heard your cue. You took one glance at the crowd and froze. All the lines you had learned disappeared. Your brain pressed the self-destruct button, and you vomited on stage. Needless to say, you learned that acting just wasn't for you. Instead, you turned your focus to the ones behind the scenes. You decided that you wanted to be a director. 

You had long since graduated from college and had directed a few indie films, but you wanted to move up in the world. You wanted to get more experience working in the big leagues. The moment you heard through the grapevine that the creators of the upcoming movie Bohemian Rhapsody were looking for PA's, you leaped at the opportunity. It would be a dream come true for two reasons. 1. It would provide an awesome working experience, and 2. You grew up listening to Queen, and it was still one of your favorite bands. You were absolutely ecstatic to discover you got the job. 

Sure, it was annoying when people would see themselves as superior and bark orders at you all day, but you could easily overlook that. The best part of the job was getting to know the cast. They were all so incredibly humble and just all around amazing people. During your time on set, you found yourself falling for none other than the living meme, Joe Mazzello. You could easily recall the moment you started crushing on him. It was one of the first few days of shooting the Live Aid scene. Joe had gotten himself a perm and was wearing a jacket that practically swallowed him. He danced alongside Liam Lunniss and Gwilym Lee to none other than the classic song, "Boss Ass Bitch." Your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. They had the whole damn routine memorized. 

You found yourself making excuses to talk to him. The most common one was telling the cast that you were going on a coffee run and wanted to know if they would like anything. You thought you were being subtle, but apparently, you were far from it. Ben, Gwil, and Rami could see it. Hell, even Brian and Roger could see it. Everyone knew. Most people just thought, " _Oh, that poor PA. They're crushing on an actor. Too bad it won't work out._ " What they didn't realize, however, was that Joe liked you too. The boys gave him endless torment about taking so long to ask you out. 

He ended up printing out a Life Alert meme that said, "I've fallen for you and can't get up" with his contact information scribbled on the back. Joe gave it to Ben to deliver it to you. When Ben handed you the paper, all you could do was laugh. Of course Joe would ask you out via meme. That evening, the two of you went to a karaoke bar. After Joe had a couple of drinks, he felt confident in his singing skills and stepped up to the mic. Out of all the possible songs he could have chosen, Joe selected Purple Rain by Prince. He was a good singer, or at least that's what you gathered from the few lines he actually sang. Most of the time, he was just screaming the lyrics. If his goal was to make you laugh, then the mission was a success. Your sides were aching by the time he sat back down. 

After that, he took you on multiple dates. Whether it was going out to dinner, walking through a museum, or even just playing Mario Kart, you always enjoyed the time spent with him. You'll never be able to forget the first time he kissed you.

He decided to take you out on a top-secret date. No one knew what it was-- not even Ben. Joe refused to give any details but would constantly giggle like a kid who got away with stealing from the cookie jar. He even went as far as to blindfold you so you wouldn't be able to see where he was taking you. Joe ushered you into a building and your senses were immediately bombarded. The strong scent of cleaning supplies made you wrinkle your nose, and cartoonish gun sounds blared over nearby speakers. The sound was only rivaled by kids laughing. You gasped, thinking you had finally put the puzzle together. "Are we at an arcade?"

"No, but you're pretty close," Joe hummed. He gently removed the blindfold, and you blinked a few times to adjust your eyes to your new surroundings. A bright smile graced your features. "Surprise!" Joe held up his jazz-hands. You laughed with delight.

"I love laser tag! You'll have to go easy on me. It's been years since I've played, so I'm probably pretty rusty." Joe snorted, and an employee led you along with a group of others into a back room. You were all assigned gear and given instructions on how to play safely. 

"Don't worry, m'lady. I'll protect you," Joe vowed.

"Oh, my knight in shining armor." You placed the back of your hand against your forehead, fluttering your eyelashes. The two of you held the act for about ten seconds before dissolving into laughter.

The employee tapped a few buttons on a nearby computer, and the circular light in the middle of everyone's vest began to glow with the corresponding colors of their teams. Yours lit up blue, while Joe's lit up red. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, realization settling in. You would be competing against each other... as if Mario Kart wasn't stressful enough. "Oh, how the tables have turned." The employee pulled back a curtain, and everyone filed inside the dark room. The teams were separated into different corners of the room. An automated voice came over the speakers and began the countdown. Joe stuck his tongue out at you, and you retaliated by giving him the middle finger. 

Then the battle began. Everyone was hiding behind obstacles and firing at whatever moved within their vicinity. You, on the other hand, barrelled headfirst into enemy territory. You had one target-- Joe Mazzello. He was going down, whether he liked it or not. The two of you laughed, trying to dodge the other's attacks. You crouched, creeping around an obstacle. As soon as your eyes landed on Joe, you fired at him. The sensor on his chest vibrated, and you cheered at the sudden victory. While your guard was down, Joe grabbed your wrists, pulling you close to him. "That wasn't very nice."

"You're just bitter than I'm beating you."

"Is that so?" You hummed in response, never breaking eye contact. Without warning, Joe pressed his lips against yours. Your body tensed for a moment before relaxing into his touch. He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. That's when it happened. The ultimate betrayal. He pressed his gun to your chest and pulled the trigger in a rapid-fire procession. Your vest's sensor vibrated violently as you gasped. The lights overhead flickered to life, indicating that the round was over.

"That was a cheap shot, Mazzello!"

"All's fair in love and war, sweetheart," he said with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all have any requests, comment them down below! I'm always open to new suggestions and love getting feedback from you guys :3


	6. John Deacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song inspo;
> 
> Something Just Like This, The Chainsmokers & Coldplay

_I've been reading books of old,_   
_The legends and the myths,_   
_Achilles and his gold,_   
_Hercules and his gifts,_   
_Spiderman's control,_   
_And Batman with his fists,_   
_And clearly, I don't see myself upon that list._

 

It was your birthday, and your family decided to gather for a big dinner at your parents' house. "Oh, John, it's so good to have you! Thank you for coming. I know you're awfully busy with the band." Your mother swept John into her arms. At first, he was caught off guard but quickly regained his composure, returning the hug. You grinned at the sight.

"Of course. I wouldn't have missed it for the world." She shooed the two of you into the living room, where everyone else sat and chatted amongst each other. It wasn't a huge crowd or anything. It was just your parents, your aunt and uncle, your cousin, and her two kids-- the boy was ten, and the girl was only four. They all shouted their greetings at the sight of you two. They were curious about John and asked him dozens of questions. "Well, I studied electrical engineering, but right now I'm the bass player for a new band called Queen." 

"Sing a song for us!" your cousin's son chirped. Everyone turned to face John with a hopeful expression. It didn't take you long to realize that he was getting overwhelmed. You took one of his hands into your own, rubbing circles with your thumb. He never considered himself a bad singer and considered singing a short melody for your family, but then John thought about the rest of the band-- Freddie, Brian, Roger-- he was nowhere near as good of a singer as them. This was your family, and he didn't want to not only embarrass himself but you as well.

"Well, I--uh--I don't sing. I just play bass." You furrowed your brows. Something was going on with him, and you were determined to find out what.

 

_But she said, where'd you wanna go?_   
_How much you wanna risk?_

 

After dinner, you bid your family farewell. You hopped into John's Volvo, and he started driving towards your apartment. You turned in your seat in order to fully face him. "John, what's wrong? You were acting weird tonight." John gave a short laugh, casting a glance in your direction.

"What're you talking about?"

"You were acting as if you've never sung a day in your life. I know very well that you sing all the time and as a matter of fact I quite like your singing." John was quiet for the rest of the ride.

"I'll walk you inside," he murmured. You climbed out of the car and sighed. John walked you into the apartment complex and stopped near your door. "I'll talk to you sometime tomorrow, yeah?"

"Come inside for a little bit." John looked everywhere except at you. He absentmindedly scratched his forearm. "Please?" He finally met your gaze, and you fluttered your eyelashes at him with an innocent smile. He sucked in a breath before nodding.

"Alright, yeah, I can stay for a few minutes."

You pulled him over to the couch, and the two of you plopped down. John looped his arm around you, and you rested your head on his shoulder. "John, you know that you're amazing, right?" He glanced down at you. A fond smile gracing his features. "I don't care who's the best singer or instrument player or even who's the smartest of the lot. I like you just the way you are."

 

_I'm not looking for somebody,_   
_With some superhuman gifts,_   
_Some superhero,_   
_Some fairytale bliss,_   
_Just something I can turn to,_   
_Somebody, I can kiss._

 

John shifted in his seat. He cupped your face in his hands, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. His eyes searched yours for any hint of a lie. "You really mean that?"

"Of course, John. I..." You trailed off. You bit your lip, debating on whether you should say it or not. "I love you," you whispered. The brightest smile you had ever seen crossed John's face when he heard your words. "I knew that I was going to fall head over heels from the very first moment I saw you." A soft laugh escaped John's lips. 

"I love you too. Hell, I never knew it was possible to love someone so much." John had inched his face closer to yours, and you closed the gap between the two of you.

 

_Oh, I want something just like this._   
_Oh, I want something just like this._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard this song and immediately thought of Deacy, so I snatched up my laptop and wrote this as fast as I could :3


	7. Gwilym Lee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANNGGSSTTT
> 
> idk why my mind created this angsty plot but here we are lol
> 
> this one is going to be fem! reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS:
> 
> as mentioned before, angst
> 
> miscarriage (of sorts)

You don't exactly remember when you first met Gwilym. The two of you had different stories. He claims that he bumped into you while in a store, thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, then asked you for your number. You, on the other hand, are almost 100% positive that the two of you met while at a mutual friend's party. Then again, he was pretty drunk. There's a chance he just didn't remember. Anyways, it was true that he asked for your number in a supermarket. The two of you talked pretty much every day for about a week. Gwilym then gathered up the courage to ask you out. The rest is history. 

The two of you had been dating for about three years when he decided to propose. If there was one thing you knew for sure about Gwilym, it's that he couldn't keep a secret to save the life of him. He would always leave paper copies of receipts or notes on random scraps of paper lying around. You would just play along as if you weren't suspecting a thing. In the end, he did surprise you. It was your anniversary, and he took you out to a fancy dinner. Throughout the whole evening, you kept waiting for him to pull a little box out of his pocket or pull the "what's that in your champagne" cliche, but it never happened. As the two of you left the restaurant, you were slightly disappointed and wondered if you had misinterpreted all the signs. Gwilym made some remark about how he just remembered that you were out of milk. He claimed that it would be more efficient and time-saving if the two of you stopped by the store on your way home... then proceeded to drive in the complete opposite direction of your shared home. You told him that if you went inside then the two of you would be walking out with at least two different kinds of cookie dough, but he dragged you inside with him anyways. After you spent about five minutes debating on what kind of cookie dough you wanted (and ultimately got both kinds), you turned around to find Gwilym down on one knee. He was proposing to you... in the middle of the supermarket. But not just any supermarket! It was the very one where he first asked you for your number. Mr. Gwilym Lee, ever the romantic.

Of course, you said yes. I mean, who wouldn't? 

Being married to an actor was interesting, to say the least. There were times where it was tough, with him being away for so long because of filming. No matter what, Gwilym would always find time to talk to you. FaceTime? Skype? He did it all. He missed you as much as you missed him, if not even more. Gwilym was beyond ecstatic when he found out that he got the role of Brian May in Bohemian Rhapsody. The best part? They would be filming near London, meaning that he would be close to home and able to visit more often. His visits were often at random times, depending on the filming schedule. When he was able to visit... well, let's just say that you made him wish he could stay longer. 

The two of you had been wanting to start a family for a while, but you were having trouble getting pregnant. You started taking fertility medications in hopes that, maybe, you could have a little one of your own running around. Looking back, you wish that you would've seen the signs long before it got to the point of no return.

There was some spotting, but you just waved it off as a hormonal imbalance. No big deal. 

Then there was a couple of times where you would randomly have a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. Again, you waved it off. It was probably nothing to get worried about.

Then the dam broke, and everything went to hell. Your stomach was killing you. The pain was so intense that you could hardly move, but if you did, then a wave of nausea would wash over your body. You were laying on the floor of the bathroom, trembling. Every time you sat up, you would gag before leaning over the toilet to hack up what you could only assume was stomach acid, as you had eaten nothing all morning. You forced yourself up and stumbled into your bedroom. You pulled your phone off of its charger then crumbled to the floor. You choked back a sob as you dialed for emergency services.

Gwilym was off filming in Surbiton, which was not too terribly far from home. They were filming a scene with one of Freddie Mercury's famous parties. As soon as the cameras were off, he was goofing around with the rest of the cast. Someone shouted his name and held up his cellphone. They told him that there were multiple missed calls from you, and it had been ringing nonstop. The other three boys cracked jokes about how you were probably bored, as you had called him many times whining about that in the past couple of weeks. Gwilym rolled his eyes and thanked the person who handed him his phone. His face hardened when he saw that he had dozens of missed calls and texts. Pressing the phone to his ear, he chewed on his bottom lip. The rest of the cast shifted uncomfortably in their seats, watching Gwilym with worried eyes.

By the time the first responders had arrived, you were passed out. They loaded you into an ambulance and took you to the nearest hospital, where they woke you up with smelling salts. They asked you all the routine questions, and you grumbled out answers between gritted teeth. When you told them that yes, there was a chance you were pregnant and yes, you had been taking fertility medications, the doctors seemed concerned and ordered multiple tests. While you were receiving an ultrasound for the doctors to assess the condition of your uterus and fallopian tubes, your phone started ringing. You saw the name flash across the screen and had one of the nurses answer it.

Gwilym's face paled. "Ectopic pregnancy? What does that mean?"

**"When an egg is fertilized, it is supposed to move out of the fallopian tubes and attach itself to the uterus. In ectopic pregnancies, the egg remains in the tube. In your wife's case, the fallopian tubes ruptured and caused internal bleeding."**

He stood abruptly and began pacing back and forth. Everyone nearby muttered their concerns. His breath came out shaky, and his lip was starting to bleed from him chewing on it. He thanked the nurse before shoving his phone into his pocket. "I've got to go. Now." Gwilym started to storm out, and everyone threw questions at his back as he ran off. He didn't even bother to stop and take off the wig.

By the time he arrived, you were already in surgery. Gwilym couldn't stay still. Whether he was bouncing his leg or pacing up and down the hall, he was constantly moving. He hated himself for not being around. He hated that he wasn't there for you when you needed him most. Less than an hour passed, and they were wheeling you into recovery. Relief flooded Gwilym's system when the doctors told him that the surgery went smoothly. They explained to him what to expect in the following days and that you should be back on your feet in no time.

Gwilym sat next to your bed, holding your hand. He perked up when you started to stir. You blinked slowly before narrowing your eyes. You pulled your hand away from him. "I'm married," you slurred, clearly still having some anesthesia in your system. When you turned your head away from him, Gwilym couldn't help but laugh. He gently cupped your face, turning you back to look at him.

"It's me, love." A smile crept across your lips.

"Oh, hey, Gwil. You changed hairstyles." Gwilym laughed again, rubbing his eyes to keep himself from crying. He was finally able to relax a bit. You started to laugh along with him but winced, placing a hand over your stomach. Gwilym placed a kiss on your forehead before leaving the room to tell a nurse that you had woken up. They gave you some medicine and told you that the doctor would come by for a final evaluation. When he finally came by, he explained that they had to remove one of your fallopian tubes due to it rupturing and how you needed to be careful in the following weeks while recovering from the surgery. 

"So what about... having kids?" Your voice was small, and you figured you already knew the answer. 

"It's not impossible to get pregnant, but your chances of having another ectopic pregnancy are very high." You nodded, lip slightly quivering. The doctor ducked out of the room, and tears began to fall. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Gwil." Gwilym wrapped you in his arms.

"Sorry for what? Love, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."

"But I... I know how much you wanted kids, and I can't... I can't.." You trailed off. It tore his heart into a million pieces to see you so upset. 

"We'll figure it out later, alright? All that matters is that you're okay."


	8. Roger Taylor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt;
> 
> “You punched them? For me? Wow, when’s our wedding? I’m thinking June."
> 
> (from witterprompts on tumblr)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO FRANNY FOR LEAVING A TON OF COMMENTS!
> 
> I seriously enjoy getting feedback from y'all, and it absolutely made my day to see how much you've enjoyed my little drabbles :')

When most people heard the name Roger Taylor, they would picture the incredibly attractive, hot-headed drummer for a student band called Smile. He had a bit of a 'bad boy' reputation, seeing as he often had trouble with keeping it in his pants. You, on the other hand, had a different image of Roger in your mind. While the generalizations mentioned before were true, they didn't provide a full picture of the Roger you knew. 

Whenever you thought of Roger Taylor, you thought about the dental student who had a secret nerdy side. You thought about how you first met him in your biology class. He sat next to you on the front row because he had broken his glasses and actually had shitty vision without them. He was too stubborn to admit this, though. You often caught him leaning over to read your notes and quickly scribbling them down before the professor moved on to a different topic. Roger formally introduced himself when the class ended and everyone was beginning to pack away their belongings. In the following weeks, he continued to sit next to you on the front row, despite the fact that he was sporting a new pair of wire-rimmed glasses. 

The two of you grew to be good friends, often helping each other study for different exams. You could easily recall the day he joined Smile. Roger was so excited. You would often ask about the band and hint at wanting to see them perform. He would always shake his head, telling you that he didn't want you to see them until they were better. "We've still got a lot of room for improvement." Sometimes you wondered if he was just making excuses and didn't want you there because he wanted to maintain his rugged reputation. Either way, you respected his wishes and didn't push the subject.

It was almost midnight, and you were out cold-- that is, until someone decided to throw a fucking rock through your window. You bolted upright, suddenly wide awake. You were frozen, unsure of what your next movement should be. You waited to hear if there was any stirring from downstairs. Part of you wanted your father to wake up and chase off the hooligan who so rudely woke you, but then again, you were curious as to who would be mental enough to actually break someone's window open in the middle of the night. Your family lived in a townhouse with plenty of neighbors nearby. If someone was trying to break in, they were awfully stupid. Careful not to step on any broken glass, you crept towards the window to peek outside. You scoffed at the sight. Roger Taylor was pacing back and forth on the sidewalk down below, running his hands through his hair. 

"Bloody hell, Roger! You nearly gave me a heart attack," you called down to him. When he looked up at you, you pursed your lips and crossed your arms. "You ought to be glad that my father didn't wake up. He would've killed you!"

"It wasn't like I was _trying_ to break the window," Roger groaned. You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"What is it, Roger?" He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.

"Look, could you just take a walk with me? I need to clear my head." You stared at him for a moment before nodding.

"I'll be down in a minute." You quickly changed out of your pajamas and into more decent clothing. Tip-toeing down the stairs, you snuck out of the house as quietly as you could. Your parents wouldn't have minded you going out, but you would've felt bad if you had woken them. 

The two of you walked through the city, which, despite it being so late, was still buzzing with life. You would occasionally glance over at Roger, waiting for him to say something. He just kept his hands in his pockets and kicked at every pebble that was in his way. Eventually, you got tired of walking. Grabbing his wrist, you pulled Roger towards a nearby bench. The two of you sat down, and you cleared your throat. "Alright, something's obviously wrong. What happened?" Like someone sticking a pin into a balloon, he burst.

"That fucking wanker, Tim, quit the band!" Roger threw his hands up for effect. You raised a brow, signaling him to continue. "He said that Smile wasn't going anywhere, so he joined Humpy Bong. I mean, what kind of a band name is that?" He crossed arms and sat quietly for a few minutes before muttering, "Humpy Bong" under his breath with a scoff. 

"So is that it? Are you just gonna let the band die off?" You watched him curiously. Roger pulled out a box of cigarettes and put one between his teeth. He tilted the box towards you, and you plucked one out.

"There's this guy. I think he said his name was Freddie? He's a great singer, but we've still got to find someone to play bass." Roger lit both of your cigarettes. The two of you smoked in silence for a couple of minutes.

"I think I might be able to help you find someone," you hummed. Roger raised his brows at you.

"Really? You?" You rolled your eyes and feigned offense.

"I have other friends besides you. In fact, I'm actually quite popular." He laughed at your comment, and you retaliated by smacking his shoulder. You snuffed out your cigarette and pulled yourself up, stretching. "Alright, I should probably get back home. I've got early classes tomorrow."

You managed to pull a few strings and find a bassist for Roger's band. You decided to use that as a bargaining chip, telling Roger that you would give him the guy's contact information in exchange for an official invite to their next performance. He quickly agreed to the deal, thanking you over and over again for your help. You smiled triumphantly as Roger gave you the time and place. Not the next week's Saturday but the next one. At the pub a few blocks away from the university. 

You arrived a little early in order to meet the rest of the band. You walked to the back of the pub and spotted Roger standing next to an older van. He was talking to John, the bassist you found for them, and two other men you didn't know. A devilish smirk flashed across your features as an idea popped into your mind. You started sprinting towards the group. The first to notice you was John. He didn't say anything to warn the others of your incoming. He just looked mildly concerned and slightly confused. "Sneak attack!" you screeched as you jumped onto Roger's back. He yelped in surprise and almost stumbled over, catching himself on the side of the van at the last second.

"(Y/N)! What the hell is wrong with you?" You just laughed and slid off of his back. 

"Sorry, Roggie, but I just _had_ to embarrass you at least once in front of your band." Roger rolled his eyes and you gave him a quick hug. "Aw, don't pout."

"Yeah, Roggie, don't pout," the tallest of the group teased. He held his hand out towards you. "I'm Brian." You shook his hand, introducing yourself. His eyes and smile widened. "It's nice to finally meet you after Rog has been talking about you nonstop for the past couple of months." You grinned, shooting a look at Roger, who was glaring daggers at Brian.

"Darling, you're even more amazing than he said you were. I'm Freddie." He gave you a toothy grin before pulling you into a hug. After Freddie released you, you turned to John.

"John, how are you? You enjoying the band?" He grinned.

"Oh, yeah. It's been fun."

As they filed onto the stage, getting ready to perform, the crowd seemed antsy. A few people shouted insults at Freddie, which he gracefully ignored. One obnoxious guy shouted something about Tim being gone, and low mutterings rumbled through the crowd. You met Roger's gaze and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled at you and started the first song of the evening. At first, Freddie had a little difficulty with the mic. You cringed a little from secondhand embarrassment. The obnoxious guy continued to fire jabs at Freddie, and it made your blood boil. You silently prayed that Freddie was a good of a singer that Roger said he was, that way the guy would shut up and realize how moronic he was behaving. Alas, things did not work out that way. It had nothing to do with Freddie. He was absolutely outstanding. The other guy chugged beer after beer, which only made him even rowdier. 

You marched over to him and politely told him to fuck off. The guy laughed in your face. You normally could control your temper, but this guy was an A grade asshole that set you over the edge. You jabbed a finger in his chest and ranted about how he had no right to be so rude. Bands work hard to write original music and get gigs. They didn't deserve to be ridiculed by some tosser like himself. They were too talented for him to be hurling insults this way and that. The guy tore his eyes away from the stage and focused his sights on you. Suddenly, you were the target of the guy's torment. He shoved you backward and wagged a finger in your face, yelling about how a lowly groupie such as yourself shouldn't be talking to a graduate student such as himself.

In all of the commotion, you didn't even realize that the music had stopped playing until a flurry of blond hair got in between you and the asshole. Without a word, Roger swung at the guy. Roger's fist came into contact with the asshole's jaw, and the guy folded like a lawn chair. You stood there, gaping at the scene that had just taken place. A couple of the asshole's friends came over and started yelling at Roger, but Brian held him back before he could get into any more fights. John stepped in and tried to calm everyone down while Brian and Freddie dragged Roger outside. You hurried after them. Brian looked at you with wide eyes. "Make sure he doesn't get himself into any more trouble while we sort this all out." You nodded, watching the two retreat back inside.

Roger put his hands on your shoulders, giving you a once over like a worried mother hen. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? 'Cause if he did, I'll shove my drum stick so far up his-"

"No! Roger, I'm fine. I really am." You tried not to laugh at how protective he was being. Roger sighed with relief. "And did you really stop your performance to fight that asshole?"

"Why wouldn't I? Anyone who touches you like that deserves to be knocked out."

“But you punched them for me? Wow, when’s our wedding? I’m thinking June," you teased. Roger snorted, trying not to dissolve into laughter.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. How 'bout we start with a date? I'm thinking dinner next week." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a lot of fun to write lol


	9. Whole Band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt;
> 
> “What kind of cruel person are you? Stop encasing my stuff in gelatin.”
> 
> (from witterprompts on tumblr)

Wars always start with some sort of small event that triggers a domino effect, which ultimately ends in unmeasurable amounts of destruction. The same is true with prank wars. It all started when Freddie tried to pull the ole 'water bucket over a doorway' trick on Roger. It failed miserably, and poor Brian ended up being the one drenched. His hair made him look like a wet dog, and he vowed to get revenge not only on Freddie but Roger as well. "What did I do?" he screeched.

"You and Fred are always up to no good. It's time you got a taste of your own medicine."

Brian tried to get you to help him out, but you refused. You weren't going to get in the middle of that battle. You knew the four of them good enough to know that they would play dirty, and the war wouldn't end until something absolutely terrible happened. You thought that Brian would be too soft to come up with a good prank. Boy, were you wrong. He had apparently taken a bunch of wet cotton balls and stuck them all over Roger's car in the middle of the night. Since it was pretty chilly, they froze to his car, and Roger was absolutely livid. Somehow, Brian had managed to break into Freddie's house when he wasn't home and packed away all of Freddie's favorite and most lavish outfits. He replaced them with clothes from the nearby second-hand shop that were either way too big or way too small. You couldn't help but laugh when you saw Freddie walk in the next day, wearing a baggy shirt with a faded American flag, neon green shorts that were so short you could hardly see them under the long shirt, and a pair of glittery red boots that came up to his knees. Freddie put his hands on his hips, staring Brian down. "Jokes on you, darling. I can rock any outfit you put me in."

You were out most of the day, running errands and such. When you finally returned home, your nose wrinkled at the smell. Nothing appeared to be different from when you left the house that morning, so why did it smell so bad? You began to search around for the source of the smell, only to discover that nearly every drawer or container you owned was filled with baked beans. Yes, baked beans. Your cups, bowls, and other cooking supplies? They were in there. Your makeup bags? In there too. There were even beans in your shoes! Only a psychopath would do this. Luckily, you happened to know one. You decided to deal with him later after you cleaned everything a million times.

You banged on the door, shouting threats if he didn't answer within the next ten seconds. Roger swung open the door and greeted you as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Damn it, Rog! You fucking wanker! I can't believe you!"

"Whatever do you mean?" Roger feigned innocence, batting his eyelashes at you. 

"You filled my flat with bloody beans!" Roger doubled over in laughter. You scoffed. "This isn't funny!"

"If you didn't want payback, then you shouldn't have gotten involved."

"What're you talking about? This is exactly why I wouldn't help Brian prank you because I knew you would do something stupid." Roger's eyes widened, and his smile faltered.

"Wait, so you and Deacy _weren't_ helping Brian?" You shook your head, crossing your arms. "Shit!" 

Poor, Deacy. You truly felt bad for him. At least your prank was contained within your apartment and could be cleaned up. There wasn't any terrible damage. Deacy, on the other hand, got the worst of it. Someone had filled his hair products with dye. His hair had turned to a shade that was somewhere between red and orange. It took every ounce of energy in your body not to start laughing, especially when you saw him fuming over the whole situation. That night, you and Deacy plotted your revenge on everyone. They brought the two of you into this war, and it was high time that someone finished it before there were any more casualties. 

After he saw what they did to Deacy's hair, Miami agreed to help the two of you as long as you promised nothing would happen to him. You swore to protect him from the wrath of the band, and the plan went into motion. Miami called the rest of the boys and told them that he had managed to get them an interview with an up and coming magazine. "It's all the rage in America, and they're starting to get popular here too." Deacy told the other three that he wouldn't be attending because he had to go get his hair fixed. They seemed to understand. If their hair looked like his, then they wouldn't be doing any interviews either.  While the boys were out and getting ready for their 'interview,' you and Deacy prepared to strike.

The first phase of the plan was completed, and now it was time to move into phase two. You and Deacy infiltrated their homes and encased everything you possibly could into a mold of gelatine, which, of course, you shaped into a penis. The two of you giggled as you placed the jello dicks filled with important items around their houses. One would be hidden under the bed, while another would be sitting in the shower, and another would be frozen solid in the freezer. Deacy even had the bright idea to swap their stuff around. Some of Brian's stuff was at Freddie's, while some of his stuff was at Rogers, and so on. Phase two was a success. Next came phase three.

Miami told the boys to meet him at a random place. When they arrived, he apologized and said that the magazine company gave him the wrong address. Long story short, the three were sent on a wild goose chase. All the while, you and Deacy had prepared several buckets of water balloons, all of which were filled with an assortment of paints, dyes, and baked beans. Miami got the boys to gather in front of a hotel, where you and Deacy had rented a room for the day. The room conveniently had a balcony, which was situated right above the street. Miami told the boys to stand close together, as the magazine company had a photographer coming and wanted them to be ready as soon as they arrived. You and Deacy each held a bucket and peeked over the edge of the balcony, careful to not make any sounds that would cause them to look up. 

"Ready?" Deacy nodded, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Can't wait for them to get a taste of their own medicine."

"On the count of three. One... two... three!" The two of you jumped up and dumped the bucket's contents over the edge. The three down below didn't even see it coming, as they were all too busy complaining to Miami about how unorganized the 'company' was. Everyone was silent for a beat, then you and Deacy burst into laughter. The other boys looked up at the two of you and shouted profanities, which only made you laugh harder. Even Miami laughed at them 

"Miami, you traitor!" Freddie shouted, attempting to scrape some of the baked beans off of his head and shoulders. Miami held his hands up, still softly laughing. 

"Sorry, boys, but I think that it's time you all called a truce." Roger nodded. He grimaced as the different colored strands of hair stuck to his face.

"Yeah, I'm done with this shit. I'm never pranking ever again in my life."

"It's a load of bollocks," Brian chimed in. 

"With Miami, the band's _lawyer_ , as our witness, I declare this the end of the prank war, and we all agree to the truce. Yeah?" you called out. Everyone said their agreements.

 

Then everything was back to normal a few weeks later, meaning that another prank war had started, but Miami kept out of it this time.


	10. Freddie Mercury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt; 
> 
> “Don’t we all want to feel alive? To feel needed and wanted?”
> 
> (From witterprompts on tumblr)

You were an only child, so whenever a new family moved into your neighborhood, you would peek through the window and hope to see if they had any children. If they did, then you would march over and introduce yourself. It got boring being alone all the time, so you were constantly trying to make new friends. One day, when you were fifteen, a new family arrived in the cul-de-sac. They were moving into the house next door to yours. A bright smile flashed across your face when you noticed that they had two kids. One of them looked a little older than yourself, while the other looked a few years younger than yourself. Being the polite and wonderful person that you are, you decided to make them some cookies to take over when you went to introduce yourself. 

You figured that they would be busy unpacking, so you waited a couple of hours before approaching their doorstep. Balancing the plate of sweets, you rang the doorbell. You could faintly hear two voices arguing over who would answer the door. The door finally creaked open, revealing an older woman with a warm smile standing next to an older man with a stern look on his face. You cleared your throat and held out the plate before introducing yourself. "Hello! I'm (Y/F/N), and I live in the house next door." You pointed at the one that belonged to your family. "I just wanted to introduce myself and welcome you to the neighborhood!" The woman gratefully took the plate, commenting about how sweet of you it was to visit and bring them treats. The man nodded, giving you a slight smile as he thanked you. The two introduced themselves as Mister and Missus Bulsara. Mrs. Bulsara ducked back inside and called for their kids. She returned with the two of them and introduced them to you. The boy had big teeth and shaggy hair. He was introduced as Farrokh but corrected his mother and stated that he wishes to be called Freddie. His father grunted and went back inside. The girl was introduced as Kashmira, and she told you to call her Kash for short. 

From that day on, you found yourself hanging out with Freddie and Kash nearly every day. Kash would come over for slumber parties, and Freddie would sometimes ask for your opinion on different designs he had been working on. Occasionally, your families would invite the other over for dinner. It became a bit of a tradition. Once a month your families would have dinner together. You enjoyed every minute of it. Freddie and Kash ended up becoming the siblings you always wished you had. Even after you moved out and began attending university, you still kept in touch with the Bulsara family.

Freddie had been in multiple bands over the years, but there was something different about his newest one. You could tell that they were going places. They all seemed to just _click_. He was so excited about every performance. Freddie would be as giddy as a child taken into a candy store. He was always bouncing across the stage during the performances. It hurt your heart to know that Mr. Bulsara wasn't exactly proud of Freddie's choice of being a musician and that he wasn't afraid it voice it-- no matter who was around. Regardless, you were proud of Freddie for finding something that he was so passionate about. Freddie was glad to have you in his corner, always cheering him on. He invited you to nearly every single one of their performances, most of which you gladly attended.

Even though Queen took the world by storm and became international rockstars, Freddie was still the goofy boy who lived next door. He remained a close friend, despite his fame... but then things started to change. You couldn't figure out why. He suddenly started becoming distant with not only the band but with you and his family as well. After a couple of weeks, you had grown even more worried about him and decided it was time to do a little snooping. You managed to get into contact with some of his bandmates and discovered that Freddie had gone solo. According to Roger, who got rather heated over the subject, Freddie was with an asshole called Paul. Roger believed that Paul was the one who convinced Freddie to leave because all he saw in Freddie was dollar signs. When you asked him how you could contact Freddie, he directed you to their lawyer.

Jim, aka Miami, was very kind. He told you how Freddie was in Munich and gave you his contact information. Jim warned you about calling and the possibility of Paul answering. "I can almost guarantee you that anything you tell Paul will go in one ear and out the other. I don't think he actually delivers any of the messages for Freddie." You took a deep breath and nodded, thanking Jim for his help. 

You made multiple calls over the next week. Some were never answered, while most of the time you reached Paul. At first, he sounded like a nice person. He made it out as if he cared about Freddie and assured you that he would tell Freddie you called. When you never heard back, you knew that Jim was right. So, in retaliation, you kept calling and calling and calling. After about three or so calls, you could tell that you were getting on Paul's nerves. His answers were getting curter, and he would try to end the conversation as quickly as possible. Then he just stopped answering altogether. Little did he know that you were as stubborn as a mule and would get ahold of Freddie one way or another. After all, friends will be friends right till the end.

It was still quite early. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. You sipped on a mug of coffee, staring at the telephone in front of you. You figured that calling would be a lost cause, so you went ahead and bought plane tickets for Munich. Your flight wasn't supposed to leave for another couple of hours, and you were considering giving him a call one last try. Deciding that you had nothing to lose, you picked it up and dialed the number that you had burned into your memory at this point. Pressing the device to your ear, you drummed your fingers on the table.

His life was spiraling out of control, but he refused to acknowledge it. Freddie just waved it all off, not wanting to see the skeletons falling out of the closet. It had been a restless night, and that's what brought him into the kitchen so early in the morning. At that moment, all he wanted was a nice, hot cup of tea. Paul was still asleep upstairs, and to be quite honest, Freddie was enjoying the quiet of the morning, without Paul hovering over him at all times. He had just brought the cup to his lips when the phone started ringing. Freddie sighed. He wanted to ignore it, but he knew that it would only ruin the peaceful morning if he did. So he answered. "Hello?"

You were almost stunned into silence when Freddie's groggy voice crackled over the telephone.  **"Freddie! Hi!"**

His face immediately brightened as a wide grin crossed his lips. A surprised laugh echoed through the kitchen. "(Y/N), is that you, darling?"

**"Yes, of course, it's me! I'm glad I was finally able to reach you. Listen, I'm sure you're busy, and this is all last minute. But I was wondering if you were available to have dinner, you know, for old time's sake?"**

"Here, in Munich?"

**"Yes."**

"You would come all the way to Munich to have dinner, just for old time's sake?"

**"Yes."**

"Darling, that is absolutely outrageous. Let's do it. When do you think you would be able to get plane tickets or drive here?"

 **"Actually... I already bought tickets. I should be in Munich at around six o'clock."** Freddie laughed.

"Of course, you already bought tickets. That's absolutely perfect! I'll have dinner reservations for six-thirty, and Paul can pick you up from the airport. We'll have a wonderful time!" You lightly huffed, causing Freddie to purse his lips. He knitted his brows and leaned against the counter. "What's wrong, love?"

 **"Well, Freddie, please don't take offense when I say this but... I don't want Paul around."** You paused, waiting to hear his reaction, but nothing came through. **"I mean, I would like it for it to be just us. I haven't seen you in ages,"** you quickly tried to cover it up. Freddie hummed.

"No, of course! There's no need to worry. I understand, darling. Now, you finish packing while I leave to make reservations," he teased.

 **"I'll have you know that I'm already packed,"** you scoffed. 

"I don't believe a word you're saying. I know you all too well, love." You glanced towards your bedroom, where you could see clothes you were planning to pack littering your bed. 

 **"Oh, bugger off, Freddie."** He laughed at your response.

"Old time's sake, indeed."

 

When you arrived in Munich, you were greeted by a suited man holding a sign with your name on it. Apparently, Freddie had sent a driver to pick you up-- how sweet of him. The man dropped you off at a nice restaurant, and you felt incredibly underdressed. As soon as you walked through the doors, a hostess motioned for you to follow. She led you through the restaurant and told you that a private booth had been reserved. She pulled back a set of curtains, revealing the large booth where Freddie was already waiting. He lept to his feet and pulled you into a hug, a gesture which you gladly returned. The two of you sat down, and Freddie asked thousands of questions about your life. You answered them and asked him a couple questions about his new life, which he seemed hesitant to answer.

After dinner, you placed your hands on top of his. "Freddie, I need you to listen carefully. What I'm about to tell you is coming from the bottom of my heart, and I want you to know that I care about you. You're like a brother to me. Okay?" Freddie raised a brow but nodded nonetheless. "You don't belong here, and you definitely don't belong with Paul." You searched his eyes before he looked away. "I think you know that, but you just don't want to see it. I think that you're scared because you've dug yourself into a hole that you don't know how to get out of. There are thousands of rumors circling about you and your drug infused parties. Freddie, the path you're on is just going to destroy you." You paused to take a breath. Freddie sniffled and rubbed his nose. You could tell that he was about to start crying, but you pressed on. "What about Paul and all those 'buddies' of his that he keeps bringing around. Why do you stay with them? Why don't you just come home?" He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse as he tried not to cry.

"Don't we all want to feel _alive_ and _wanted_?"

"All they care about are the things you provide them with. As soon as you cut them off, they'll leave you in the dust. They're not you're family, Freddie. You _are_ wanted, but in this case, you're wanted for the right reasons. You're wanted by your family. You're wanted by Roger, John, Brian, and even Miami. You're wanted by me, Kash, and you're parents. We all love you. Freddie. We want to see you again. We want to see the real you. Not this version of you that was created by Paul."

"Do my parents really want me? Last time I checked, my father wasn't exactly proud of who I am," Freddie spat. He made no effort to wipe away the tears that were running down his cheeks. He stared at you expectantly. 

"Yes, Freddie, they do. Even if he doesn't do the best at showing it, your father cares about you regardless of what you do with your life. Kash and I have caught him countless times reading _The Sun_ just because there was an article about you or Queen in it." A small laugh shook Freddie's shoulders, probably from him thinking about his father reading a tabloid. A small grin quirked the corners of your lips upward. "We miss you, Freddie. Please, just come home. Come home and be the person you were born to be."


	11. John Deacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> inspiration;
> 
> this epic video right here
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IrOidGgbVio

You lived a mundane life with an ordinary job that most would assume is boring. You, on the other hand, loved being a librarian. It warmed your heart to see children discover different genres and return their books to you with wide smiles. You would always ask them their favorite parts of the story. Every once in a while a young adult or teenager would come in and ask for recommendations or help for a research project. There were days where work could be a little boring, but that's where the best part of the job came in. You were constantly surrounded by books! If you ever found yourself with idle time, all you had to do was pluck a book off the shelf and dive into the story. 

Your relationship with John was still relatively new. The two of you had only been dating for a little over a year. You actually met him through work. He showed up one day, asking for a certain book. After that, he became a regular in the little library. John was incredibly kind to you, and you appreciated his witty sense of humor. You eventually found yourself looking forward to his visits. One morning, when he was returning a book, John brought you a cup of coffee. You were surprised at the gesture and thanked him multiple times. It wasn't until a while after he left that you realized his phone number was written on the side of the cup. Your cheeks reddened, and you couldn't wait to get home, feeling like a lovestruck teenager all over again. John later asked to dinner, and the rest is history. 

Your relationship with John was still relatively new. The two of you had only been dating for a little over a year. His career fascinated you. The library wasn't exactly exciting, but being in a rock band? In your eyes, John was one of the coolest people you had ever met. You had been to one of their performances, but you were interested in the behind-the-scenes stuff. You wanted to see what the band was like on a typical day instead of just on stage during performances. You occasionally dropped hints about wanting to go see them recording. You were hoping that John would catch on and invite you along one day.

Luckily for you, John quickly caught on. He was slightly nervous about you meeting the rest of the band. There was a part of him that thought you would find them more attractive or exciting, but he tried to brush those thoughts away. John reminded himself that the band was a big part of his life, and you were interested in getting to know him better through that. Still, he would have to keep an eye on Roger.

You slipped your hand into John's, intertwining your fingers. Your eyes were almost as wide as your smile, and you were ever so slightly bouncing up and down. John couldn't help but laugh at your reaction to the recording studio. The two of you got there a little early, that way John could give you a little tour of the place. "Excited, are we?" he teased.

"That would be an understatement. You've got the coolest job ever!" you gushed. 

"That would be because he works with me, darling!" Freddie announced as he walked into the room, followed by Brian and Roger. You already knew their names from John talking about them and from that one time you attended their show, but they introduced themselves anyways. 

"How did John manage to catch an attractive little thing like yourself?" Roger smirked at you. John rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist. Freddie and Brian changed the subject a tad, asking where the two of you met and how long you two had been together. 

"John goes on and on about how wonderful, and smart, and all around amazing you are but never gives us any specifics!" Freddie complained. You could feel your cheeks reddening as your shoulders shook with a soft laugh.

"Well, I'm a librarian. He came into the library one day, and we just started talking then... a little over a year later, here we are!" Roger barked out a laugh.

"A librarian? That's just John's type, 'innit?" Brian elbowed Roger, and John's brows knitted together. 

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Before Roger could respond, Brian cleared his throat.

"Ignore him, (Y/N). Rog can be a bit of arse at times." 

 

You sat on a couch behind the technician who was operating the soundboard. They had been recording for a while now, and it was absolutely mesmerizing. You couldn't take your eyes off of John. You loved watching him play because he just turned into a little ball of energy. He just had to constantly be moving. It was quite adorable if you were being honest. Every time he glanced over at you, you would give him a big smile and a thumbs up. 

Since it was your first time in the studio with them, and they were all basically like brothers, they would never be able to forgive themselves if they didn't at least _slightly_ embarrass John. Or that's what Freddie told himself when a wonderfully stupid idea popped into his head. It wasn't anything major, but it would waste a couple minutes of everyone's time. And he just wanted to see everyone's reactions. They were recording a new song called One Vision, and Freddie gave the lyrics a last minute change. 

 _"One man. One goal. One true religion."_ Everyone was bopping along to the song that they had rehearsed multiple times. You tapped your foot to the beat with a small grin on your lips. _"One dump. One turd. Two tits. John Deacon."_ You couldn't help but laugh, quickly slapping a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. John's smile widened as he shook his head. You were already struggling to hold yourself together when the next verses came.  _"Chicken feet, baby! One heart. One soul. One sex position."_  Everyone tried to continue to play the song as normal but quickly dissolved into fits of laughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's short and trashy but it was fun to write lol


	12. Brian May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> song inspo;
> 
> Golden Days by Panic! At the Disco

It was that lovely time of year where the weather seemed warmer and flowers started blooming... in other words, it was time for spring cleaning. There was one particular closet that was getting to be quite cluttered. You had been telling yourself for years now that you were going to clean it out. Of course, that never happened. You kept putting it off until today. You decided to finally get it over with and out of the way for good. 

You were digging through an old box that had been stowed away in the back of the closet for who knows how long. It was filled with old clothes and LP's from days that were long gone. You picked up a not-so-neatly folded jacket, only for an envelope to fall out. Your brows knitted together as you inspected the yellowing package. There was no writing on it, but it was nearly bursting at the seams from whatever was inside of it. Humming in curiosity, you opened it. Nostalgia washed over you as you pulled out dozens of old photographs and newspaper clippings. 

_I found a pile of Polaroids_  
_In the crates of a record shop_  
_They were sexy, sexy looking back_  
_From a night that time forgot, hmm_

"Brian, come look at what I found!" You could hear your husband walking towards you but didn't take your eyes off of the photos in your hands. Brian sat down with a grunt before scooting closer to you. He pushed his glasses onto his nose, leaning over your shoulder to see the photographs. Plucking one from your grasp, a grin spread across his face.

"Oh, look what we have here." 

_Boy, he was something debonair in 1979_  
_And she had Farrah Fawcett hair_  
_Carafes of blood-red wine, hmm_

_In the summertime_

"Look how young we were." Brian hummed in response. In the photograph, he had his arms wrapped around your waist. One of your hands was on his cheek, while the other was holding a wine glass. The two of you had bright eyes and wide smiles. 

"Do you remember that night?"

"Of course," you playfully scoffed. "After you proposed to me, Freddie insisted that we had an engagement party. I thought it was going to be one of his massive parties, but he actually surprised me with keeping the crowd small." You paused, laughing. "He was shit-faced before the night ended and insisted on taking a picture of us with your camera. You didn't want him using it because you thought he'd break it, but Freddie ended up winning that battle," you said while tapping the photograph. Brian rolled his eyes at the memory.

 _Oh, don't you wonder when the light begins to fade?_  
_And the clock just makes the colors turn to grey_  
_Forever younger growing older just the same_  
_All the memories that we make will never change_

"Where's all the time gone? Feels just like yesterday."

"Yeah, now we're old, grey, and wrinkly."

"Speak for yourself, darling. I still look great," Brian teased, running a hand through his grey curls. You lightly slapped his shoulder.

"Brian Harold May, don't be rude!" He laughed before pulling out another photograph. It was one of you when you were pregnant. You had one hand over your face, and one hand was giving the camera-- or rather the person holding it-- the middle finger. You laughed at the silly photo, clearly remembering it being taken. "This one was from my first pregnancy, remember? I was pissed when you tried to take a picture of me. I was trying to enjoy a healthy lunch, and-"

"Chips dipped in ice cream is a healthy lunch?" Brian raised a brow at you. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment. 

"Oh, hush. Anyways, I didn't want the picture taken, and you took it anyways. I was mad at the time, but it's nice to look back at." The two of you stared at the photographs for a moment longer. Brian pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting back to his feet. 

"I'll let you get back to your organizing. Make Marie Kondo proud." He gave you a thumbs up as he started to walk away.

"You're just going to leave me to do all the work, then?"

"You're doing great, love!" A soft laugh shook your shoulders, and you tucked the envelope away to save for later. 

Several minutes passed, and your phone buzzed. You gave it a glance, raising a brow at the notification. Apparently, Brian had tagged you in a post on Instagram. There was no telling what he put on there, given all the random things he puts on there all the time. Who posts a video of rattling spoons with no explanation? You pulled up the post and saw that he had put up the pictures the two of you had been looking at. The caption read;

'These old photos popped up after some spring cleaning. Glad they finally resurfaced! I should clean things out more often -bri'

You commented;

'I would like to point out that I was actually the one cleaning, thank you very much'

Then Brian replied;

'😻 -bri'

To which Joe Mazzello replied;

'ugh you two are literally goals'

 

 _We'll stay drunk, we'll stay tan, let the love remain_  
_And I swear that I'll always paint you_  
_Golden days!_  
_Golden days!_

 

_Time can never break your heart_  
_But It'll take the pain away_  
_Right now our future's certain_  
_I won't let it fade away_

 _Golden days_  
_Golden days_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this is one of my favorite chapters i've written so far :3


	13. Joe Mazzello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from tumblr;
> 
> "Can you write something where Joe tries to be all sexy and buys one of those cheap stripper cop costumes and puts on a show for you and it’s just really cute and funny and the reader is laughing so hard but she loves him so much???"

The two of you had been dating for nearly three years, but you knew each other for a good while longer. You were introduced to Joe through a mutual friend, and you two instantly clicked. Your relationship started off as being just friends. You often found yourself gushing about some nerdy thing you were excited about, and he would do the same with you. It was great! He was as big of a dork as you were. As the years passed, you found yourself falling head over heels for him. You always thought that he saw you as a friend and nothing more. It wasn't until a drunken truth or dare game that he actually confessed his feelings for you. From that point on, the two of you were pretty much joined at the hip. 

There, of course, was a lot of hate sent your way when you first made your relationship known to the public. You tried to ignore it, but there were times where the hurtful comments would really get to you. Some people tried to paint you as some kind of gold digger who was trying to take advantage of Joe. It ripped your heart to pieces knowing that some of his fans saw you that way. You honestly couldn't care less about his career choice. True, you were insanely proud of his accomplishments and held bottomless support for him, but you would still love Joe no matter what his job was. 

Joe had been in Europe for months, filming Bohemian Rhapsody. It was hard, not having your boyfriend at your side, and it was driving him absolutely mad to be away from you for so long. He would give you a call or Skype you during his breaks, which often earned him endless teasing from the rest of the cast. Joe would be in the middle of telling you something when someone-- usually Ben-- would snatch his phone from his hands. You would cover your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself from laughing as you heard them bickering over the phone. The boys would have a fun time playing 'keep away' with Joe's phone. They would toss it to someone, tell you hello, then toss it to someone else. You always felt bad for laughing at Joe's flustered expression when he finally got his phone back. It became regular for the boys to interrupt your conversations, so it was always interesting to see where Joe would be hiding. 

"Joe, are... are you... hiding in a bush right now?"

"What? No, don't be ridiculous. They would suspect that. I'm in a tree, that way they can't reach me."

You were over the moon when Joe told you that he was coming home. You spent the entire day cleaning and preparing for his arrival. You went to the nearby dollar store and grabbed as many party poppers, cans of silly string, and balloons you could fit in your small car. You could've made him a fancy dinner, but you figured getting take-out Chinese would be more Joe's style. You dug through a basket of DVD's until you found the perfect one for the evening-- _Dum and Dummer_. 

You crouched behind the couch, clutching a party popper and a can of silly string. A flimsy cardboard hat sat on your head. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing when you heard the door open. "Honey, I'm home!" Joe sang. There was a loud thud, probably from him dropping his bags on the floor. He called your name, clearly confused. His eyes widened when you jumped out from your hiding spot and pulled the string on the popper. It shot out a pitiful amount of confetti with a loud pop. 

"Welcome home," you shouted before coating him in silly string. Joe gave a dramatic gasp, putting a hand to his chest. 

"I come home, and this is what I'm greeted with? I'm disgusted and ashamed!" he wailed. You snorted, dropping the empty can in the trashcan. 

"It's not what it looks like Joey!" When you turned around to face him again, the tables had turned. He was holding a can of silly string and aimed it directly at you.

"I won't hesitate, bitch!" Joe quoted the iconic vine, spraying you with the slimy mess in the process. You marched over and stood toe to toe with him. You narrowed your eyes at him, and he did the same to you. It took about 0.05 seconds for the two of you to dissolve into laughter. Joe picked the silly string out of your hair, a loving smile on his face. "God, I missed you so much." You hummed draping your arms around his neck. He quickly closed the gap between the two of you. After a moment, you pulled away. Joe gave you a pouting look. You rolled your eyes at him.

"We'll have plenty of time for that, loverboy. Our food's gonna get cold if we don't eat soon."

Joe built a pillow fort in front of the TV while you fixed a plate for the two of you. When you returned, he was already starting the movie. You snuggled up close to him, and the two of you ate the Chinese food while occasionally laughing at what was on the TV. 

Before you knew it, the movie was over, and the two of you were just quietly laying in the fort, basking in each other's company. Joe took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You giggled as he started peppering kisses up your arm. "Joe, this is so cliche." He just hummed, pulling you closer. Joe started pressing kisses to your neck, lightly nipping at the skin. When your breath hitched, he pulled away. A grin crept across his face. 

"Wait right here, I've got a little surprise for you." Joe scrambled to his feet and rushed across the room to his suitcase. You sat up, raising a brow at him.

"Joe, what're you-"

"Shh! Don't move. I'll be right back." He clutched a plastic bag to his chest and ducked away into the bedroom, closing the door behind himself. You sighed. There was no telling what he was up to. A dozen possibilities ran through your mind. However, none of them included the sight you were about to see.

You jumped when the door slammed open. You gawked at Joe. He was wearing incredibly short, obviously fake leather shorts, a tight, blue shirt that looked like it was missing about half of its buttons, an unbearably cheesy cop hat on his head. The hat was a little too small, so it sat lopsided.  He held a gold, plastic badge in one hand, and he twirled around a pair of plastic handcuffs in the other. You burst out laughing when he started strutting across the room, making his movements as exaggerated as possible. "Joe, what the hell are you wearing?" He jutted out his badge and pursed his lips.

"You have the right to remain silent." Again, you started laughing, but this time, you couldn't stop. He was trying to act all sexy by dancing around the living room, but he looked outrageous in his little outfit. Your sides were already aching, then Joe started trying to twerk. That's when the tears started flowing. While he had his back turned to you, you pulled out your phone and quickly turned on the camera. You managed to capture part of his twerking skills. "If being sexy was a crime, I'd have to turn in my badge!" Joe shouted. He then made a dramatic spin and slapped his own ass. 

"Oh my god," was all you could say in between laughs. "I can't wait to send this to Rami." Joe froze, turning to you with wide eyes. His whole stripper persona fell to pieces when he saw you holding your phone up.

"Don't you dare." You bit your lip and scrambled to your feet, running away from him.

"You'll never catch me alive, copper!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> check out my new tumblr!
> 
> http://metaphorical-love-for-a-car.tumblr.com/


	14. Roger Taylor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from Tumblr;
> 
> "Could you to a fanfic based on the song Smile by Lily Allen? hehehe I’d love that. Lil bit of angst but reader feeling like a badddd bitch ✌🏼"

You had met the infamous Roger Taylor in a moment of chaos, which is quite fitting if you think about it. You had slept in and was trying to rush to class before you were late. The professor was incredibly strict and would lock the doors at exactly 8:00, not allowing anyone into the lecture hall if they didn't show up on time. You literally rolled out of bed, grabbed your backpack, and dashed out the door. You didn't have time to worry about your appearance. You were adjusting your pajama shirt in an attempt to make yourself look a bit more presentable. You were hardly paying attention to where you were going and managed to somehow trip on air. All of your belongings spilled out of your backpack, and you shouted swears into the air. Someone nearby laughed. You whirled around to face them, annoyance clearly displayed across your features. "I hope you realize it's rude to laugh at someone's misfortune. You could at least help me out a little here," you huffed. The guy knelt down, helping you gather your scattered papers.

"Sorry 'bout that. Just couldn't help myself. You look like you've had a rough morning." He flashed you a bright smile. You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, that's one way to put it." He handed you a stack of papers, and you mumbled your thanks.

"Well then, (Y/N), hope your day gets better, and try not to bust your arse again," he teased with a wink. You knitted your brows together. As you opened your mouth to speak, he pointed at the papers in your hands. "Your name was on those." A light laugh shook your shoulders. The corner of his lips twitched upward in a smirk. "I'm Roger, by the way." You shook his hand.

"Roger, thanks again for helping me, though you should work on your manners. Maybe next time I fall you should help me up before you laugh at me." Roger snorted, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, alright. You got me there." The two of you stood in awkward silence for a moment. Roger cleared his throat. "Suppose I'll see you around, Klutz." You rolled your eyes at the nickname, bidding him goodbye.

The two of you started running into each other more often. Sometimes accidentally, but most often on purpose. It wasn't long before Roger asked you out. One date turned into two, and sure enough you two settled into a serious relationship. You knew of his reputation for being a 'bad boy' who was always having flings with random girls. You brushed it off. You trusted Roger. He supported you while you finished your degree and went on the hunt for a job, and you supported him when Smile turned into Queen. You were always there for him, even when he took the world by storm.

You thought you had Roger all figured out. You could tell when he was about to lash out and would try to calm his temper before it got out of hand. You became a sort of mediator for the band. Whenever Roger's blood started to boil, someone would call you up, and you would diffuse the situation. He wasn't always the one to show his emotions. He would always try to bottle them up, but you learned what his ticks were. You figured out how to tell when he was upset and would quietly do things to make him lighten up a little until he was ready to talk to you. On your fourth anniversary, Roger proposed to you. It was right before they were supposed to go on tour, and he said that he wanted the comfort of knowing you would be waiting for him. Of course, you said yes. Why wouldn't you? You thought that the two of you were a match made in heaven.

_When you first left me_   
_I was wanting more_   
_But you were fucking that girl next door_   
_What'd you do that for?_

They were supposed to be performing near London, and you decided to surprise Roger. You phoned the boys and told them your plans. They had everything arranged for you. It had been months since you had last seen your fiancé, and you were giddy with excitement. You kept running it through your mind. You pictured yourself running into his arms, and you thought that he would be as happy to see you as you were to see him. A fond smile crossed your features as you twisted the engagement ring around your finger.

You stood in the wings, watching their performance. They seemed to get better and better every time you heard them play. You found yourself watching Roger for a majority of the time. His motions were almost fluid, and he would get a big grin every time the crowd roared. When the concert finally ended, the first one to greet you was Freddie. He practically sprinted off the stage to hug you. "Darling, it's been too long!" he shouted. You laughed, patting his back. 

"It has, but, Fred, you're crushing me." Freddie let you go, his smile never faltering. Brian then approached, giving you a hug as well. "Have you seen Rog?" You asked the two of them. Freddie shrugged and said something about him exiting the stage in the other direction. Brian, being the tallest, gave the backstage a quick glance. His face fell when he spotted Roger, who was in a corner with another girl. The two were flirting, and he was obviously into it. "Bri, you okay?" You started to turn to see what he was looking at, but he looped an arm around your shoulders. 

"No, no, I'm fine! Maybe Roger went back to the tour bus. I'll go with you to look for him." Brian flashed you a smile. Freddie turned around and got a glimpse of the scene Brian saw. He quickly spun to face the two of you again.

"Yes, Brian, I think you're right. Darling, go check out the bus, then we can get something to drink after." You bit your lip. Something was going on, but you couldn't exactly put your finger on it. You nodded, agreeing to follow Brian outside. He let out a shaky sigh of relief. As he led you through the crowd of people buzzing around backstage, you caught sight of a familiar head of blonde hair in the distance. A bright smile crossed your face.

"There he is!" You pulled yourself away from Brian, despite his protests. You quickly weaved through the crowd. When you finally got close enough to see Roger clearly, you froze. Your throat tightened, and your eyes burned as tears threatened to form. There he was. Your _fiancé_. Pinning a girl to the wall and feeling her up. You clenched your fists, and your blood was beyond boiling. Anger and hurt flooded your system at the sight in front of you. "Roger Taylor, what the hell is going on here?" He pulled away from the girl. His eyes went wide, and he quickly wiped his mouth.

"What're you doing here?"

"Yeah, we were in the middle of something," the girl scoffed, clearly annoyed that you interrupted their make-out session. 

"No, you don't get to talk right now," you snapped at her. You crossed your arms, staring at Roger. "I came here to surprise you! I hadn't seen you for months, and forgive me for missing my _fiancé._ " You spat the last word venomously. The girl's eyes went wide as she gaped at Roger.

"You said you two broke up a year ago!" Your jaw dropped at her accusation. Roger looked panicked. He couldn't think of a way to save the situation.

"Listen, love, I just-"

"No, Roger! I don't want to hear any of your bullshit excuses." The dam broke. You couldn't hold it back any longer. A choked sob escaped your lips. "I trusted you. I defended you to my family and friends. They all told me that it would end this way, but I refused to believe it. God, I was so stupid." Roger's shoulders sank. He put a hand on your arm, but you swatted him away. "Don't fucking touch me!" You looked down at the ring on your finger. You started to pull it off, disgusted by the sight of it.

"Love, don't! We can fix things. We-"

"You can't just _fix_ trust, Roger. It's not one of your beloved cars. No, we're done. I'm not putting myself through any more of this." You dropped the ring at his feet. You turned on your heel, only to discover that the two of you had drawn quite a crowd. Your face heated, and you kept your head low as you pushed through the crowd. You were humiliated. 

John had stayed inside in an attempt to diffuse the situation with Roger. Brian and Freddie found you outside, sitting on the sidewalk. Your shoulders shook with silent sobs. They sat down next to you, whispering words of encouragement.

_When you first left me_   
_I didn't know what to say_   
_I'd never been on my own that way_   
_Just sat by myself all day_

They still had a couple of stops left in their tour before they could go home. You couldn't bear to be in the apartment you shared with Roger. In a moment of anger, you snatched up all the photographs of the two of you and threw them into the trashcan. You refused to sleep in the bedroom. Instead, you slept on the couch. You packed away all your belongings but had no clue where to go. Of course, you could always move back in with your parents. But then again, there was a sense of pride that kept you from doing so. You didn't want to seem desperate. Also, you weren't in a place where you could handle them going on and on about how they told you so and how you should've listened to them. You started spending as little time in the apartment as you could. Whether that meant you stayed in a cafe, at the library, the park, or even at a bar, you avoided the place like the plague, only returning when you needed to sleep.

Brian had known you since their Smile days and always saw you as a sister. Freddie thought you had an amazing personality, and the two of you quickly became good friends. Freddie and Brian were worried about you. They would often call, but you didn't always answer. When you did, you were often moping around. Freddie finally said enough is enough. He offered for you to stay at his place, which you gratefully accepted. He hired someone to go by and help you move your stuff out of the apartment.

_I was so lost back then_   
_But with a little help from my friends_   
_I found the light in the tunnel at the end_

"How was the rest of the tour? Everything that went down with Roger didn't ruin it, did it?" Worry was laced into your features as you sat on the edge of the couch. Brian shook his head, and Freddie gave a dramatic flourish of his hand.

"Darling, don't worry about him. He royally fucked up, and he lost the most outstanding woman on the planet," Freddie stated as he handed you a cup of tea. "Besides, we wouldn't let him fuck up the band."

"How have you been holding up?" Brian asked carefully. You hummed before sipping your tea. 

"I've... been on a bit of a rollercoaster, but it's getting better-- thanks to you two."

"Of course, darling! You're our friend. We couldn't let you go through this alone." Freddie paused, his lips quirking into a grin. "You should've seen the look on his face when he heard you were moving here."

"I thought he was gonna knock your teeth straight, Fred." You snorted at Brian's comment.

_Now you're calling me up on the phone_   
_So you can have a little whine and a moan_   
_And it's only because you're feeling alone_

_At first when I see you cry_   
_It makes me smile_   
_Yeah, it makes me smile_   
_At worst I feel bad for a while_   
_But then I just smile_   
_I go ahead and smile_

It had been a little over a month since you last talked to Roger, and the phone had been ringing nonstop. Freddie told you that Roger was practically interrogating him about you every time he saw him. You rolled your eyes. Roger was being dramatic and only wanted to make things up because he was lonely. 

Someone was banging on the door. Freddie had gone out for the evening, so it was just you and the cats. You considered just ignoring whoever it was, but they were persistent. You groaned and finally got up. There would be no peace in your future if you continued to ignore the person at the door. When you swung open the door, your breath nearly got caught in your throat. Roger was standing on the doorstep. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dark bags under his eyes. "You look like shit." He barked a laugh.

"Well, hello to you too, Klutz." You scoffed at the old nickname. Crossing your arms, you leaned against the doorframe.

"What do you want, Roger?"

"I want everything to go back to the way they used to be. I want you to come back home. I want you to be with me. Please, love, just give me another chance."

_Whenever you see me_   
_You say that you want me back_   
_And I tell you it don't mean jack_   
_No, it don't mean jack_

You laughed. Part of you felt bad for laughing in his face, but you just couldn't help it. Here was Roger Taylor, on your doorstep like a lost puppy. You shook your head, a teasing smile on your lips. "No, Roger. That ship has already sailed, and you know that. We're over, and there's nothing you can do that'll change that."

"I'll do better. I promise! I just..." You raised a brow at him. "I miss you," he mumbled. You pat his shoulder, and Roger gave you a hopeful look. You shook your head. 

"No, Rog. You can't change what happened. I hate how things have ended up, but... it's just the way that it is." You shrugged. You could tell that the gears in his mind were turning. You took a step backward and started to close the door. "Goodnight, Roger. Take care of yourself, okay?" As you started to close the door, his eyes widened.

"Wait, (Y/N), don't go!" You closed the door and locked it. You leaned your forehead against the doorframe for a moment. He was still out there, shouting at you to open the door and talk to him. It didn't take long before you dissolved into giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation. You felt something nudge against your ankle. You glanced down to see one of Freddie's many cats, Oscar. You picked up the orange tabby and cradled him in your arms. 

"Come on, Oscar. We've got a date with some cookie dough and Monty Python."


	15. Ben Hardy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!READ THE NOTES AT THE END FOR AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!!

Growing up with Joe Mazzello was... interesting, to say the least. He was the typical older brother. The two of you would constantly bicker over the simplest things, and then you two would be up to mischief together before the day was over. There was incessant teasing between the two of you. Joe was the constant ball of energy around your home, and you always struggled to keep up with him. And yes, he was constantly screaming.

When you were young, you thought he was the coolest person-- albeit you would never admit that. He achieved the childhood dream of being famous. You were always his biggest fan. If he needed help preparing for an audition, you’d give him your full attention. You always had his back, and you knew that he always had yours. 

In a way, you made your own name for yourself. You were a photographer, a quite good one at that. You were hired by many companies for high-end photo shoots. As you started to rise through the rankings, Joe helped you out a little. He would try to convince the management to hire you for whatever film or show he was working on’s promotional photographs. Sometimes it would work, and you were always grateful for his support. 

“Joey, please, you don’t have to keep doing this.” He had somehow managed to get you hired on the set of _The Pacific_. Joe just scoffed at your remark, looping an arm around your shoulders. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

After that, it became pretty common for you two to work together. If you hired one Mazzello, then you might as well hire the other because you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t. Luckily for you, the same applied to Bohemian Rhapsody. You were beyond ecstatic when you got the news. The first thing you did was call Joe, practically screaming in his ear.

You were on set, discussing some photo arrangements when you heard a familiar voice call out, “Aw, there’s my little mozzarella stick!” 

“Shut it, Francis,” you quipped before apologizing to the person you were originally talking to. You spun on your heel and immediately burst out laughing. It wasn’t the first time you had seen Joe’s curly wig, but it seemed to get bigger every time you caught a glimpse of him. He was walking with three other men. You had already met Rami, as he had been friends with Joe for quite some time. The other two were unknown to you. Sure, you could remember their names, but you had yet to formally introduce yourself to them.

“Francis?” The Brian May clone looked at you curiously. Your grin widened.

“Joey’s middle name. Isn’t it adorable?” you cooed.

“Oh, mate, that’s fantastic.” The blonde clapped Joe’s shoulder before sticking out his hand in your direction. “I’m Ben.” 

“Nice to meet you, Ben. I’m (Y/N).” Realization flooded his features. He flashed you a bright smile.

“It’s about bloody time we’ve met. Joe’s talked about you nonstop!” You raised a brow at Joe, playfully jabbing his side.

“Has he? All good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Joe scoffed.

“Perfect, now I can tell you all his embarrassing secrets” Joe gave a dramatic gasp before moving to stand toe to toe with you. You narrowed your eyes at him, and he returned the gesture. 

“You make me vomit,” he growled.

“And you’re the scum between my toes,” you said between gritted teeth. The Little Rascals was a movie that the two of you shared a love for. You were constantly quoting it. 

After a few more moments of an intense staring contest, Rami finally stepped in between the two of you, knowing full well that the two of you would’ve gone on for forever. “They said something about doing a quick photo shoot?” Your attention snapped Rami.

“Oh, yeah! Ready to get your model on, Ahkmenrah?”

“Of course, darling! I was born ready.” You laughed at his Freddie impression before rounding the boys up, giving them directions on where to stand.

You were sitting off to the side, watching them film, when you felt someone tap your shoulder. You glanced up to see Ben. “Mind if I join you?” You shook your head, scooting over so he would have plenty of room on the small bench. The two of you watched one of the directors animatedly talk to Rami. “Hey, could I take a look at some of the pictures you took?” 

“Yeah, sure!” You picked up your work bag, which held so much stuff that it would put Mary Poppins to shame. You shuffled through your belongings before finally pulling out your laptop. You had already transferred over some of the pictures, and they just needed to be edited before they would be released. “They’re not quite done yet. I’ve still got to do some touch-ups on a couple of them.” You handed the laptop to Ben and watched his expressions as he scrolled through the pictures. 

“Holy shit. You’re really good, you know that?” You snorted, rubbing your face in an attempt to hide the blush you were sure was already spreading.

“Thanks, it took a lot of practice.” Ben handed back your laptop when someone called his name, motioning him over. A small grin graced your lips when you realized there was something new on your screen. When you looked away, Ben had opened up a blank document and typed down his number. Chewing on your lip, you made a mental note to shoot him a text some time. 

It took you a little while to finally build up the confidence to text Ben. The two of you continued to talk even after your work with Bohemian Rhapsody finished. You knew that you were rapidly developing a crush on him. Not only was he good looking and an amazing actor, but he was also the sweetest person. Ben made you smile every time the two of you talked. And, _God_ , that accent just made your knees go weak. 

You groaned when your phone started ringing. It was just barely after seven in the morning, on a Saturday no less. You reached across the nightstand to pull your phone from the charger. You sat up and narrowed your eyes at the blinding screen. Ben was calling. “Hello?” Your voice sounded more groggy than you would’ve liked.

 ** _“Sorry, love, did I wake you?”_** He gave a nervous laugh.  ** _“Sometimes I forget about the time differences.”_** You smiled, peeling yourself away from the bed.

“No, no, it’s fine. I probably needed to get up soon anyway,” you hummed. You were about to fix yourself a cup of coffee when you heard Ben mumble something then clear his throat. “You okay?”

 ** _“I’m fine!”_** he assured. **_“I was just wondering... the Oscars are coming up, and I thought I’d ask if you wanted to be my plus one?”_** You froze before slowly setting down your mug. 

“Like, as a date or...” you trailed off, chewing your lip nervously.

 ** _“That’s what I had in mind, yeah.”_** A wide smile spread across your face. 

“I’d love to.” You felt like a lovesick yearling. You practically screeched with excitement when you ended the phone call. 

A couple of days had passed when Joe called-- in the middle of the night. You weren’t too surprised to see his name displayed across your phone. He was always calling at odd hours. “Joseph Francis Mazzello the third, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” 

 ** _“I’ve got an offer you simply cannot refuse! You. Me. The Oscars. Boom! You’re my plus one.”_** You laughed.

“Sorry, Joey. I’ve got prior commitments.”

**_“What? Don’t tell me you’ll be working! It’ll be way more fun hanging out with me than taking candids of countless celebrities.”_ **

“No, I’m not working. I’ve actually got a date.”

**_“What’s his name, address, and social security number?”_ **

“Joe. You know better than this. I’m not giving you any information because you’ll just scare him away. Remember Andi Gilmore, who you scared so bad that his parents started homeschooling him?”

 ** _“Hey! That wasn’t my fault,”_** Joe grumbled.

“Whatever you say, bro, but if memory serves correctly, you went all Pat Murray on him.”

**_“Your memory clearly does not serve correctly.”_ **

You spent the next couple of weeks in a mad dash, trying to find the perfect dress to wear. It needed to be something good because there would be no shortage of pictures and videos by the end of the night. Thankfully, you were able to find one that was just right for the occasion.

Ben stood on your doorstep, nervously shifting his weight. He had been smitten since he first introduced himself to you. He hadn’t been able to get you out of his mind since you left the Bohemian Rhapsody set. Sure, the two of you talked nearly every day, but it wasn’t the same as having you beside him. When you opened the door, it felt like all the air had been pulled from his lungs. A loving smile spread across his face. “Wow. You’re beautiful.” Your cheeks pinkened.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.” He took your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Your face turned to a darker shade of red.

“Must be the luckiest man in the world if I got you to agree to go on a date with me. Shall we?” He motioned towards the car that was parked on the curb. 

Joe kept his eyes peeled for his friends. He had found Gwilym already, but he had yet to find Ben. He was watching every car to see if the blond beauty would step out. Joe’s brows furrowed when he saw you getting out of a car. He could’ve sworn you told him you were going on a date, and he was even more confused when Ben got out of the same car. Realization hit him like a pile of bricks when Joe saw Ben put an arm around your waist. “Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me! Him? Seriously? I thought you had higher standards, (Y/N),” Joe shouted. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Calm down, Francis. We’re going on a date, not to a drive-thru wedding in Vegas.”

You were finally able to cross ‘attending The Oscars’ off your bucket list. It was an amazing experience, and you were so proud of everyone who worked on Bohemian Rhapsody. The movie racked up the most awards of the night, a grand total of four Oscars. You couldn’t tell who cheered louder for Rami-- you, Joe, or Lucy. When all the festivities ended and everyone started to leave, you turned to Joe and Ben. “You know what I really want right now? A jumbo-sized slushie from 7/11.” Joe’s eyes widened as he loudly exclaimed his agreement. 

The three of you went to the closest 7/11. Joe wandered around the small store while you and Ben went straight to the slushie machine. You danced in place, pouring as much of the different colored liquids you could into the large cup. “How do you think that’s going to taste once they all mix together?” Ben questioned with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged, and he stuck a finger in your cup. He scooped up a glob and ate it, humming. “Not too bad.”

“Rude!” you gasped. “Shouldn’t you know better than to stick your fingers in other people’s food? I thought you were supposed to be a British Gentleman.” You wagged a finger at him, walking towards the check out counter. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

“I’m not always a perfect gentleman,” Ben flirted. You opened your mouth to reply but was interrupted by Joe’s fake, exaggerated gagging.

“Oh, _hell_ no. You two are so disgusting. I’ve been third-wheeling all night.” You cast him a glance, only to see that he was recording a video. 

“Aw, don’t worry, Joey! You’ve still got Cardy B!” you cooed, a smirk crossing your lips. Ben snorted, and Joe replied with a smartass comment, but that got cropped out of the video.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry, it's been forever since I last updated this lol :P Anywho... I doubt I'll be updating this very much. I might come back to it every once in a while, but I honestly doubt that. If you would like to continue reading my Queen x Reader fics, then please check out my Tumblr! I'm way more active on it, and I have many more fics on there that haven't been posted on here.
> 
> The username is @metaphorical-love-for-a-car for anyone who wants to check it out! :)


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